Once Upon A Time
by LivinJgrl123
Summary: *MOS Universe* Once upon a time, there was something General Dru-Zod cared about more than he cared about his people, his duty, and his planet. That thing is gone now. But, that's why it's 'once upon a time'. Because he never really cared about anything like that never again. Ever. *COMPLETE*
1. Chapter 1

**You know what i own: everything goes to their owners, and I own what I make up. Deal with it. This is going to be a short, random fic. It would be awesome if I could get feedback on this. Happy Independence Day/4th of July/whatever you like to call America's holiday. I'm gonna skip the fireworks, believe it or not, tomorrow, in favor of watching a disco of _House_ from netflix and _How I Met Your Mother _on netflix instant download :) and brownies with my ma. Well, whatever. Cheers, yeah?**

* * *

Zod has his hand on Faora's shoulder. He's grieving, just like she is. But while she is devastated from the loss of her home, the loss of her own kind, she knows that the general, who is somehow still standing, has it worse than she does.

She has no one but her squad in her life. That's always how it's been. She's never had anyone outside the Kryptonian military, but her heart is still aching like someone has forced a stake into her heart. Everyone in that room is shattered, but she knows that none of them has it as bad as General Zod does.

Faora glances up at him, through lashes dampened by her tears, and she can tell that he's hiding something behind his expression. He's as devastated as they are, maybe a bit more about Krypton's end, because all he ever wanted what was best for his planet, for his home, for his people - that's all he ever wanted, it's what he wants _most_, but she knows - _she knows _- that he's worse off than any of them.

Zod's jaw is clenched. If Faora hadn't been a Kryptonian, her shoulder would have been crushed by his grip. That alone told her he was suffering - _screaming_ on the inside, probably - because he lost something.

Lost _someone_.

Faora remembers what Jor-El said to him, when Zod told him of his plans, that he would honor the man he once was. He would never, _ever_ be that man again, because Zod, in her opinion, had lost _a part of him_, and since that part was dead, there was no point in honoring any version of that man by not doing what he thought best.

Zod's not showing that he's upset, but no one says anything. They know that if they do, his carefully put-together, indifferent expression will shatter, and he might lose his head. And they don't want that. They need him to stay calm, to hang on to that shred of common sense that he has left.

They will _not_ bring her up.

At least, _they_ won't.

_Faora_, on the other hand - well, she'll bring it up.

Eventually.

Because she knew this someone, she knows Zod - she's probably one of the only ones who knows that he's able to be a _nice_ Kryptonian every once in a while. Hell, she probably _is_ the one person who knows that he was actually capable of loving another living thing.

But she's not going to think about this now.

She has to mourn the loss of her home.

And Zod has to grieve the painful, excruciating loss of the one thing he would actually give up his planet for, no matter what he or anyone says.

That one thing is gone now.

And he has nothing.

There is _nothing_ to stop him from doing the best for his people.

Faora knows this.

But the thought is starting to scare her.


	2. Chapter 2

It's been six years, and they've found _nothing_.

But, Faora isn't really upset about it. No one really is. They'll just keep searching - just as they've always done.

She has a feeling that the ever-trustworthy and levelheaded general she's served for longer than she cares to remember will find Jor-El and Lara's son.

Someday.

But, she is concerned for Zod's mental health. Just a little. Not as much as _she _would have been (she can picture her now, with a stony look on her face, demanding what in Krypton's name is the matter with him before she tries and annoys it out of him), but worried enough as one should be for the one in charge of their mission, the one who's ensuring that they continue to do their duty to their people, to Krypton.

It's nothing _too_ worrisome.

But it does worry her.

She's asked him about it, for the first time since they saw _it _happen - since - since their home had destroyed it self. She asked him, today, when no one else was around.

To her surprise, he'd confided in her. She was his second in command. She was his _friend_, she had to be - someone had to know what had crushed the man Jor-El had claimed he used to be.

He had surprised her today, by recalling a memory. A memory of _her_. Faora was quite fond of her, actually. Zod _never_ reminisces. Or at least, he _tries not to_, but no one - **no one** - can shut out their memories forever.

She's tried. She has, but she stopped _really_ trying

And Zod?

Zod's been trying harder than _all of them._

Faora knows he's been trying, trying too _hard_ over the past two years, but he will never forget her. Her life might have - sort of - been in the way of his duty, but her death - her _death_ - was one of the smaller, more hidden things driving him to find the codex. To find Kal-El.

To rebuild Krypton.

Zod told Faora about one of the times when he came back. Back from a year-long mission, one that had _gotten _him the title of "general". Faora remembers this clearly, because she had accompanied him on his way back to his quarters, where _she_ would be waiting.

She'd hadn't even known they would be back.

Zod had recalled, in a gravelly tone - one that she'd only heard _once_, and the only two times she's ever heard it have had to do with _her_ - (in those tone, she knew not to say much, in case he might get upset, because Zod _never talks about **her**_, or anything that's even _remotely_ sensitive) - exactly what her reaction had been when both had stumbled (slightly) through the entrance way.

Faora had stood off to the side. She'd been hiding a smile - she _never_ smiled; _she_ had said herself that she was ruthless, cold, and efficient when it came to battle - but she had actually had to hide a smile when Aila had looked up from her work station (if Faora remembers correctly, they had been sharing a home together since Zod had promised to stay with her if he returned from his [originally planned as a half-a-year] mission.

Aila had just sort of stared at them both. Her mouth had been open, and Faora had actually wondered, at the time, if she would try to harm them both with her eyes once the shock had passed and the anger had settled in. After recovering (rather quickly), Aila had stood up, and had proceeded to _scream_ at them **at the top of her lungs **about worrying her, and making her think that they had both been _dead_._  
_

Zod hates unnecessary shows of emotion. He hates showing that he can feel emotion. He just despises emotions in general, Faora realizes with a grim look, as she lies on her bunk staring up into space. and not for the first time. Into nothingness. Much like the space they'd been sifting through since... since _it_ happened.

But when Aila had begun screeching - screeching about things she'd already gone on about (she had screamed at both of them, and then at Faora, for making her think she'd lost her friend, her confidant, her un-blood-bound _sister_, and then she had been just screaming at the newly-promoted general, who would be receiving a ceremony in the morning) - Zod had started to _smile_.

It had been more of a smirk, really, because Faroa remembers that, during the next night, Aila had told her that Zod doesn't really _smile_. He just gives a strange twist of his lips that _look_ like a smile, but really, it's a smirk, or an imitation of a smile, because _Zod doesn't really smile._

And Faora thinks she's only seen the general smile around _her_. He's never smiled anywhere else. He hasn't smiled since then. Well, it had been a small smile (smirk), and then Faora and he had shared a look, a knowing look.

Zod had told her, while recollecting, with a tone that somehow shifted into a bitter one that seemed fit for someone who had lost his entire world - both figuratively _and_ literally - that she had been fighting back her own emotions.

Thinking about it now. Faora realized that Aila did that a lot. She screamed, she shouted, she fought, she argued, but for a reason. For a reason that had made Zod smile that day.

Aila had been screeching nonstop for minutes after she'd made her point, because _she had been trying not to cry._

And she had been trying not to cry, _because she cared. _Faora had known that she would need to leave soon - eventually, Zod was going to quiet her, but not this second.

_She _**_cared_**.

Zod continued to smirk, until Aila noticed (and it took a long while, and all this time, her raised voice had been directed only at Zod, having already forgiven Faora), and then she _had_ started to cry.

After minutes and minutes and minutes, she had started to _cry_.

And then Zod had put a hand on her cheek. No, more like her neck, with his thumb brushing against her jaw, while Faora made a hasty escape, wanting to give them their privacy - but not before she heard him say that _one thing_ no one would have _ever_ expected **him - _General Dru-Zod! -_**but he had.

Zod had told her _that he cared__. _Not in the way he cared for his squad, or for his duty, or his people, or his planet, or anything.

He actually _cared_.

But that was the only time Faora had ever heard him mention it.

Once Zod had finished his telling of the memory, he had thanked the commander for her time and had relieved her of the duties for the next few hours, so she could get some rest.

Faora, wide awake, thinks that the person Zod is now, is for the better of the Kryptonians' futures.

Foara won't convince herself that he's better off this way, better ruthless, cold, unfeeling, and uncaring - towards everything except his goal, and sometimes his squad - because Aila would have nearly killed him (if possible; no one has even come close to killing Zod or any of Zod's men, but she had always tended to worry more than any Kryptonian should) for being the way he was - but he was doing what he thought was right.

If he thinks he is doing good for his people, then Faora will follow him, like the good soldier and commander that she is.

But, she'll never _really_ convince herself of that, no matter how loyal and devoted she is to the general, who is now currently locked away in his own quarters.

Probably recalling everything he possibly can about her.

Which is everything, because he _cared_.

Because Aila had had an annoying, uncommon set of morals that had been unusual for Kryptonians.

That would be, always, on Faora's mind. Aila kept Faora from convincing herself of that.

But Faora knows that the memories of Aila have convinced Zod to do what he thinks is right.

But that's why Faora - that's why _everyone_ on their ship - doesn't care about anything like she cared in the way she did for Aila, the way Zod cared for Aila.

_That is why_.

Faora can only think, as she closes her eyes for a brief moment of rest, of how livid Aila would be if she knew what had become of Zod.

When she had been alive, she got funny when was mad.

When she was mad, Zod almost smiled.

_Almost._


	3. Chapter 3

Faora realizes that Zod hasn't said a words for nearly four hours. He's been keeping to himself for nearly all of that time, and she knows why.

It's why she's not banging on the locked doors of his quarters. It's why she's sitting on her own bunk

He's thinking - probably lost in his thoughts again. But, so is she. So is everyone. There are some days, where every seems to move in a trance - and on those days, everyone is remembering a memory, of when Krypton still existed. They're recalling all the happy memories and little details about the home they no longer have, and that's fine today, because Zod is doing it, too, though usually, he's the one to (somewhat kindly, which is normal, because he's sympathetic towards his soldiers) snap at them for daydreaming, for being lost in memories usually too painful to even begin to think about.

She's been thinking, too.

It's been fourteen years since that day, since they all lost everything - everything but their cause.

Zod, though - when he shuts himself away, she knows he's resentful. Bitter. Angry.

So, so angry.

A year back, when he was lost in his thoughts, one of the other soldiers brought up their old home - and, to Zod, if home is brought up, it is technically bringing up his Aila.

He had been so, so angry that time. He had nearly killed that man.

So they were all keeping their distance, and keeping to themselves.

On days like these, it is better simply to live in the memories they all hold dear.

Faora knows better to ever even think of Aila when he's around, though.

It just makes everything worse.

Because, she knows that the angrier it gets, the more he's thinking about _her_, and it's like the essence of those who knew her that still exists in their memories is a burden, now. All of their memories are burdens, burdens to shoulder and carry on, carry on till they find what they're looking for.

That's what Zod is doing.

It's what Faora is doing, too.

But she's not bitter - she's just angry. She wants to rebuild Krypton, she wants to help her general reach his goal - finding Kal-El and finding the codex - and it's like the memories of Aila that he possesses are weighing less and less on his conscience.

If Jor-El had been alive, Faora thinks that he might have simply dismissed him, because of whom he had become due to the destruction of everything - the one thing, really, if you thought about in a certain way - that he'd held dear.

But Jor-El - and everyone else - is dead. It doesn't matter what he would have done if he had been present. All that matters is that Zod is keeping his head level when he is needed, but in order to do so, Faora knows - like everyone else - that he needs to wallow within painful memories - just like everyone else on their ship.

But for now, she - and everyone else - needs to leave him be.

He needs his time alone.

With his memories.

With the memories that are most painful to him in his mind, the ones he keeps locked away for times when he can think about them, relive them relish in and regret them.

But he needs to be alone.

Faora understands.

But Zod, she thinks, must have a level head when he makes an appearance later on.

Or else everyone will lose hope in his goal, to rebuild what they lost:

their home.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm a hopeless romantic. And weird. I came up with the weirdest ending. So ha. Yay for me. I had to write this. ****Well, this is it. Thanks for reading this mega-short fic! But remember: I'm a sap. **

**Cheers, yeah?**

* * *

Zod doesn't like remembering things.

In fact, she knows that he hates it. He hates everything about remembering everything there is to remember about _home_.

It's been sixteen years. The grief is supposed to be easier to deal with, by now. It's supposed to _bearable_ (because Faora knows he has it the worst out of everyone on the ship - it's just _that painful, _deciding that he was going to do everything that he possibly could to do right by his people - to everyone that's _dead_, and to everyone that has yet to even be born), after a while - a long one at that.

But, even after _sixteen years_, Zod still can't remember without his mood twisting into something dark, angry, and bitter.

Faora was getting better at just _standing there _while he starts talking about it - about what happened, about Jor-El, about what Lara had done, about _their son, _about_ Aila_ - and just saying nothing.

Because when she reacts, he reacts to her reaction, and then he just _stays_ in that angry , bitter and dark mood for even _longer_ - and when that happens, it's _her_ fault.

Right now, she's listening to him talk. She's not even sure what he's going on about, but as his commander - as a loyal, _devoted_ soldier - she has to listen. She has to, because if she doesn't, no one will. And if no one will, then - well, it wasn't pretty. Things got broken, usually - things around the ship, things of his own, weapons and mechanisms - everything and anything that's in his way.

He's talking about Jor-El, and Lara, and she's heard him talk about this thing before - they all have, but they can't do anything about it, she can only listen - and he's pacing back and forth, slowly, and then quickly, slowly, and then quickly again - he's just going back and forth, back and forth, and this usually goes on for an hour, maybe less.

And now, now he's talking about Aila.

She _really_ has to make sure she doesn't say anything now, because when he talks about Aila, his voice gets a little rougher, and he sounds a little angrier, and even a bit more bitter - and that's proof, right there (Faora _knows_), that his grief hasn't gotten any more bearable. It's not easier to deal with. In fact, she's sure it's getting worse. But she says nothing, and just listens.

He's talking about every little thing that bugged him about her, about every little thing that he'd liked about her - about every little thing that he had loved to _bug_ her about.

Faora's stopped listening, completely - she's only watching the general go back and forth, back and forth - because she _remembers_ everything about Aila, and she's remembering everything about Zod that bothered _Aila_, she remembers Aila listing off every little thing that she hated and loved about Zod.

She remembers what she liked to laugh about, and what she got mad about, and how she was just like Zod in the way that he's not so fond of showing his true feelings - she remembers that she loved to make the snarkiest comments towards him, she remembers that she would do everything in her power to piss off Faora _and_ Zod before they went off plant _anywhere_.

Faora realizes that Zod is nearing the end of his ranting, and she starts listening again, but she only catches a few words, (she nearly reacts, and has to blink a few times, because he's never said _"I miss her" _before) and then he's done talking. He's slowly pacing now - he's slowing down - and now, he's stopped, and now - now he's still.

Faora's expression is stony, but he doesn't even have an expression. He looks more emotionless than he did months after their planet died. He just stands there, emotionless, for a few long seconds, and then she _knows._

And Faora knows what this means, as he gives her a stiff nod, and she exits his quarters. As she walks down the hall, towards her own, she knows that _that look _means that - that -

- that he's not going to talk about her. Zod's not going to be talking about her for a long, long time. He probably won't, not ever again.

And she's right.

Zod never even mentions her again.

She doubts, though, that he never stops thinking about her.

And, she's right about that, too.

He never did.

* * *

_ ~ 17 Years Later ~_

* * *

Zod doesn't talk about her, he hasn't talked about her since.

Faora knew that he wouldn't - and she was okay with that.

But what she doesn't know, as her general looks at Kal-El (she still can't believe she _actually _survived long enough to see the son of the man who entrusted his son with the _codex_), is that all he can think about is Aila, as Kal-El collapses to the floor, reacting to the change in atmosphere.

He's looking down on him, with no amount of pity in his eyes.

There's no remorse, no need to fix the pain that the young man is in.

As far as Zod is concerned, he can suffer for a few minutes longer.

But it's the human woman, that makes him pause, before he turns away from the Krytponian, who's coughing up blood on the floor.

It's the way she bends down to see if she's okay, when he's suddenly hit with a sharp, vivid image of Aila. It's almost as if she's there now, telling him to do the right thing, to remember her annoying moral compass.

It's like he can hear her, telling him to help Kal-El, to stow the anger and bitterness, and do what she considered the right thing.

His jaw clenches, but he doesn't try to shove her out of his mind.

He just uses the anger, and sadness, to sneer as he turns away from the pair.

He feels ill, but he just focuses on his anger.

Zod should try to care, he really should - she'd want him to - but he doesn't.

In all honesty, he just wants the woman to shut up about the blood Kal-El is coughing up, and for the codex to be found.

He just has to remember that he's doing this for his people, it's his duty to them.

He just wishes that Aila hadn't been so keen on the right thing.

And then, maybe he would have just killed Kal-El right then.

_Maybe._

* * *

Lois doesn't know why the man - General Zod - is upset.

She can tell, just by looking at him, as he turns away from them, that something's bothering him.

She doesn't know what, but he's probably thinking about something painful.

The faraway look on his face - she _knows_ it, the one mixed with bitterness and anger - it's something she's only seen a couple times, but she knows it.

She knows it shouldn't even occur to her something's making his mood sour, as she looks down - internally panicking - at the blood Clark coughed up, but she can't help but make the observation that there's something painful being seen behind those eyes.

Lois can't help but wonder if that something has a name.


End file.
